You Do This
by Sailor Moon Has Balls
Summary: Best friends, lovers, the police, an overreaction? A quick one-shot that I hope you all will like. Let me know if it sucks. R&R.


**A little something I found buried in my files on mah computer!! lol**

**This fic is in second person or something. I dunno. I just wrote it a loooooooooooong time ago. *shrug***

**Anyways, enjoy, and I do not own Sailor Moon!**

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You had known for a while now that this friendship was falling apart. She was moving on from the huge ordeal, but you weren't. She had a great job and was successful. You didn't. She was smart, sexy, and a beautiful person. You were not. She was a lot of things that you weren't and it pissed you off.

When the both of you had a wonderful friendship and you both hung out together 24/7, you both were complete. Even in your later years, you both didn't need a boyfriend or more friends. You had each other to depend on, and having other people getting in the way would destroy your relationship. You both knew this until a couple years ago.

When he came along, you both welcomed him. You both enjoyed having him as a friend. But then he became more of a friend to you. And you couldn't stop him because you were falling in love too. Why? He was nice, everything you had dreamed of and sexy. What wasn't there to love? You were blinded by your love of him and oblivious to your best friend's reaction. She became jealous of your lover and decided to get back. I mean, who sits there and watches their best friend slowly drift away from you, not noticing that she was doing it, and live on as if she didn't know you? She doesn't.

***

So, one day, you leave work and arrive at yours and your lover's place. You unlock the door, and yell the usual greeting before walking into the kitchen to put away your keys and your bottled fizzy drink. Work had been hard, but you were used to it. While looking at the mail, you notice that he wasn't there. Where was he?

You look around the small apartment. No sign of him. Where did he run off to? Was he with his friends? Where's the phone? Failing to find the house phone, you walk into the kitchen and grab yours. You call his number. All you hear is a "beep". You sigh in frustration and call him again. The same answer. His phone is off. You decide to call his friends one by one. None of them had seen him since Poker Night on Saturday. You curse under your breath and call his office. Nope. You call his brother. Haven't seen him.

"Where are you?" you whispered desperately. He had never done this to you. This opened up new possibilities. Was he missing? Did someone hurt him? Should you call the police?

You decide to wait it out. Maybe he left the office and stopped for gas. You walk to the window and look out, jealous of the people below who seem to have no problems. You know that this isn't true, but worry has consumed you and you can't think straight.

Nightfall comes three hours later and you're pacing the floor frantically. Maybe he had gone missing! You freak and rush to the phone. You call 911.

You report him to the police and within five minutes a search party is at her door.

You went out with the police, searching the likely places he was at just hours before. It depresses you to think that he was with you just ten hours ago. In your arms. Sleeping. You shake the memories away and become determined to find him.

Little did you know, he returned home, safe and sound. But, he wasn't alone. He was with her, your childhood best friend. She dropped him off, thanked him for the 'fun' and drove off.

Hours later, at two in the morning, you return home, depressed. Your eyes are red. He's gone, you think. You walk into the bedroom and see him. He is sitting there. Watching TV. You're surprised.

"Wha-" you're at a loss for words. He's been here? But, you checked every room! Even the bathroom!

"Where were you?" you ask immediately. He turns and smiles.

"Here, why?" he asks. He walks up and tries to hug you, but you rush to the living room to your cell phone.

"Honey?" he asks. He follows you and watches you frantically dial a number. You report to the chief detective that he's safe and sound and that you are sorry for causing a huge ruckus for the police. The detective comforts you by reassuring you that it's okay and that it's their job to help you. You say goodbye, and the phone call ends. He watches you end the call and becomes confused.

"I couldn't find you and got worried."

"I was at work," he lies. You wonder why he was lying to you; you confront him.

"No, you weren't. I called. Your secretary said that you had left about a half an hour before I called," You say. He seems at a loss for words.

"Well, I was out. I was at a client's place," he said. You called his cell. Maybe he shut it off? You shrug it off and nod.

"Ah," The two of you go to bed. You're exhausted and he's tired from work. You both sleep like rocks until your alarm goes off at six in the morning.

***

He hurt you. You cried loud enough to wake the dead on your way home. Other people on the highway eye you, wondering what happened. He cheated on you. That's what happened. With your childhood best friend. You weren't as close as you were before, but you two still called and said hello every once in a while. How could she do this? You think. You think hard. You look around the apartment that you just walked into. Everything you look at sickens you and you have to get away. His scent, the scent that you loved, was every where and you felt like suffocating. You run to the bedroom. He's there. He doesn't know that you know. You had just arrived home with the news hanging heavy on your shoulders.

"Hey," he greets. He walks to you, but you rush past him and grab your suitcase. He sees your tears and is immediately "concerned". Ignoring him, you pack up all that you own and rush out of the apartment. Without another word to him.

You cry loudly again and that's when you realize that you need to get out of the city. You need to leave this city that you loved. That you called home. That you began your career in. You think back to your parents. No. They would support you, they had always been that way, but going back to your parents suggests weakness. You are not weak. At least, you think you aren't. You could be wrong.

Suddenly, you don't care where you're going. You just drive on and think about the signs. You think, "If I don't get over it now, I never will."


End file.
